Love this #92 Shell Art

It’s been a while since my last Love this post, and as I keep pausing over these images as I scroll through my photos I thought it was about time.

I was - and am - absolutely smitten with these when I saw them on our visit to Houghton Hall last October, and could have quite easily have left with both of them, had my bank balance permitted. They are exquisite, and much more superior to my childhood shell art which I’m sure involved polyfilla, an empty plastic golden syrup tub and shells collected from the beach. There might also have been shells which we’d bought from the Shell Shop in Lyme Regis, a memory that definitely takes me back!

Both of these are by Blott Kerr-Wilson, a sea shell artist - and clearly one way above any of my childhood efforts, and quite frankly above anything I’d attempt even now. Both were on display in the stables, and both are pricey, just shy of £3000 - but oh, so lovely.

Who’d have thought that mussel shells (above) and sea urchins and tusk shells (below) could be quite so beautiful?

I’m not even going to say one day, but I know I’m glad I saw them and have a photo - as that’s as close as I’m going to get to these beauties - admiration from afar!

A fascination with boxes

Along with notebooks, I’ve got a bit of a thing about boxes. And it’s not something I’m sorry about. I mean when the boxes are as pretty as these, why would I? If you’ve seen this one on my Instagram feed recently you’ll know it’s another Instagram purchase from a vintage seller there. This one had me worried a little as it was slow to arrive, but once it was here I was smitten.

It wasn’t my intended purchase. I saw a vintage sign that made me smile, and it was that that caught my eye. Scrolling through more photos I spotted the box, and it was sold. Literally. I had no idea of its size, but that didn’t matter.

As you can see it’s not large, but is a decent enough size - and the amount of work it contains is amazing. MOH predictably asked where it would go when it arrived, but knew that disputing its existence was futile.

Much like when we walked into a room full of decorative boxes on our short break in Norfolk last year. I thought I had a photo which I could add to this post, but it seems I was too much in awe to do that. But clearly the memory has stayed, and it’s clearly going to be somewhere we revisit, often. That time I left with a candlestick instead of a box, but that was a blip, I’m pretty sure there’s a box in my future.

Instead though I’m sharing one that I already have. I know it came to me via dad, but that’s all I know. The name - L Higginson - isn’t one we know, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t either. But that doesn’t mean it’s any less of a box beauty.

What I’d forgotten though was all the photos it holds. And consequently the memories.

Including one of my four cats (none of whom are still with me) enjoying dinner on a distinctly dodgy looking (temporary) carpet in the kitchen in my old house. The memory of walking on cat food barefoot isn’t a memory I needed to recall though.

The detail on the boxes, including this mother of pearl keyhole, that’s something I don’t think I’ll tire of.

An open-shelved delight

When we arrived at our holiday cottage in Norfolk last October this was the view that met us as we opened the door, quite breathtaking isn’t it?

We knew the cottage would look great, but we perhaps weren’t expecting our breath to be taken quite so much away. I like the idea of open shelving in a kitchen, but I know that mine would rarely look as pretty as these! But I was hopeful that for a few days, and in someone else’s space, I wouldn’t mess it up too much.

I was also quite taken with the zinc worktop, and it’s something I’d have in a future kitchen. Perhaps not on every worktop, but I can see the advantages of incorporating it somewhere. I could get MOH to make even more pastry - one of his specialities - if he had such a space couldn’t I? I’m less good at pastry, I think because my hands are too hot, but that works for bread making, which is very much more my thing.

The worktops looked great, but in reality for longer term living all the ‘staging’ probably wasn’t that practical. Though adding the gourds and pumpkins was a really lovely touch and one that’s do-able and very repeatable in my own kitchen. I just need to remember - or find this post again - in the autumn.

The stack of enamelware reminded me how much I like enamelware, and reminded me of what I have at home, and rarely use. This was a soft grey and white variety, whereas mine is white with the blue trim - quite the classic look. I do like a classic, as my Le Creuset is the traditional orange sort too. Having been reminded of the enamelware’s beauty I promised myself to make more use of my own, and I’ve added to it too. MOH now has some espresso cups, and I’ve my eye on a roasting set too, if it ever comes back in stock.

The mix of practical and pretty really appealed to me. I don’t think it’s much of a coincidence that I’ve also bought some pretty and hand painted coffee cups either. And even though the look is modern, there were many traditional elements, like this drying plate rack above the sink.

And I bet like me, you weren’t really surprised to discover the style of the cutlery in the cutlery drawer.